


The Constancy of Beautiful Things

by passivagrestiv



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Character Death, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passivagrestiv/pseuds/passivagrestiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her heart stopped, and maybe his too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Constancy of Beautiful Things

There was so much _red_.

“Chat, I’m sorry.”

“My Lady –Princess –Mari, no. Don’t go.”

“Don’t lose yourself, okay? I love you so much –all of you.”

“No, _please_. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without you.”

She flicked his bell weakly, a soft smile on her bloodied lips. “You’re wrong, silly kitty. I will _always_ , always be with you.”

Her eyes slowly fluttered close and with a sob, he buried his face in her chest, desperately trying to hear the fading thumps of her heart. “No, no, no! Don’t close your eyes! Mari, _please_. _I love you_.”

She hummed and sighed for the last time, kissing his golden locks.

_Bye bye, little butterfly._

Her heart stopped, and maybe his too.

* * *

Chat Blanc was born, a ghost overridden by remorse and vengeance.

He had lost himself, and he will always be sorry.

* * *

He was mercilessly flung to the ground, countless black smudges on his white suit, coughing up blood and wiping off some trickles from his mouth with a low growl. He heard the akuma laugh maniacally and saunter off to who knows where.

The clouds of dust cleared out and he found himself peering up at pools of heavenly blue. _Her_ shade of blue and they shined with concern, sincerity and dare he say –love.

She pressed a palm to his bruised cheek. It was _warm_ and she looked _so_ real. “Chat, stop. _Please_. You’re hurt.” Her voice was the same, like small, gentle ripples on water, and just like that, he was spellbound, lost in the sea of warmth and home –lost in _Marinette_.

But then, he snapped, emerald eyes hardening in fury, and slapped her hand away. How dare _he?_ How dare _he_ kill her then conjure up some twisted sham of her?

Chat Blanc snarled, promising himself that he would find Hawkmoth and leave him bloodied and _completely_ flightless.

The imposter flinched away, but reached for him again, small hands cupping his cheeks. The same unyielding determination flashed in her fake eyes and he was so confused.

He was drowning in blue. “Chat –Adrien, it’s me. I’m real. I’m _alive._ ”

Adrien had enough of hope. There had been too many missed birthdays, empty promises and dreams of motherly embrace. He had been betrayed each time, his heart gradually hollowed by each treacherous blow. But still, like the idiot he was, even when succumbed by darkness, a tiny spark flickered inside him and though weak and fading, it was hope.

“ _Really_?” His voice sounded so weary and broken that in a flash, her arms were wrapped around him, sure and earnest. He could feel the overpowering warmth from her small, fragile frame, and tentatively, he brought his ear to her chest.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Her heart screamed his name and his own started beating again.

She chuckled, running her fingers through his hair. “Would I lie to you, my kitten?”

His tears fell and he was Chat Noir again.

* * *

Marinette was alive and she was in his arms, crying silent tears. They were on the chaise of her pink room and Adrien held her, stroking her hair softly with one hand. Plagg was quiet on her desk, forlornly chewing a piece of camembert.

“It’s sad that I won’t be seeing Tikki for a while,” she whispered.

He hummed in agreement, sharing her melancholy. Sweet, selfless Tikki. When she would come back, Adrien would shower her in innumerable cookies and other sweet treats. He will be forever grateful to her. Without her, Marinette would have been buried six feet under the ground and his world would have been stripped off its colors.

Tikki had disappeared when Marinette woke up in her own pool of blood. Her bruises, scratches and the huge gash on her stomach were gone as well. Marinette had brought Chat Noir back and he had defeated the akuma with her wisdom, trapping the black butterfly in a jar and bringing it to Master Fu.

The corrupted butterfly had been cleansed in ways the teens could not understand. Master Fu had taken out a gleaming silver box from a drawer, encasing the akuma and muttering incantations in an ancient language. After a while, he had opened the moon-crested box and a white butterfly had innocently flown out.

The old man had been visibly worn out after the ritual, heaving labored breaths and bullets of sweat trickling down his forehead. The teens had fussed about his state and he had waved them off, saying that he’s one tough cookie.

“Besides Ladybug, the guardian of the miraculouses can also cleanse akumas, though it is not easy. The Moon Box requires a huge amount of energy from the guardian to purify them.”

He had smiled at them reassuringly before focusing his gaze on Marinette. “Don’t worry. Tikki will return to you soon. She just needs some rest.” His eyes had softened. “She truly loves you.”

Adrien had held her hand when she handed her earrings back to Master Fu. The old man had promised to do everything he can to aid her kwami’s recovery. Marinette had rushed to the guardian and tackled him in a relieved hug, her tears wetting Master Fu’s shirt and chanting ‘thank you’ over and over again.

Her cries dwindled now and she shifted to meet his eyes. The moonlight masked over her and gave her an ethereal glow, her bluebell eyes glistening and skin like porcelain. His breath hitched. She was so beautiful and otherworldly –like a ghost.

And that thought made the memories of her limp, lifeless body in his arms came rushing into him, jolting him to what had _almost_ happened. No, it had happened. She had _died_. She hadn’t responded to his pleas nor opened her eyes when he had tried to fill air into her lungs. She had lied still, face ashen, bloodstained and peaceful, and everything after her was just pitch black.

She had _died._

He dipped his head into her shoulder, his body racking in violent sobs. “I’m sorry.” He was ashamed to call himself a knight when he couldn’t even protect his princess.

“I’m here,” she cooed, kissing his hair softly. “I will _always_ , always be with you.”

And he believed her, just like every time, because she was Marinette, the girl who shattered all of his masks and opened her arms to the real, raw him who was inevitably broken, and still desperately wanting to erase every doubt about the constancy of beautiful things.

She was here, filling up the gaping hole in his chest with every laugh and smile, and he once again vowed to keep her light alive. He won’t fail anymore. He won’t lose himself anymore.

“ _I love you_ ,” he breathed.

She will always be his constant.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is my first fanfic here in AO3 and my first contribution to the MLB fandom. I am absolute trash for those two dorks and would probably spend the rest of my life loving them. (Not a problem at all.)
> 
> Thank you for reading. And pardon if there are errors. This was done in a rush. I hope you liked it.


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